Heart Emphatic
by Duchess of Darkness
Summary: As the Shinigami-Arrancar war wages on, Aizen initiates a plan that unsteadies the balance between both worlds. And let it be known: the most effected victim of his plans is none other than Ichigo. 'GxI - dark mpreg fic' Discontinued.
1. Chapter 1

NOTE: This is a story request by **ariaofthewind**. Just a heads-up to all my fans, this story will most likely be a long-term project. Not just in the fact that I write/update like a snail, but that the story requires a lot of development that I cannot possibly put into a small number of chapters (if unless I made the chapters super long-- but I can't do that, that would mean longer wait on updates for you guys, not to mention I'm notorious for losing my work). So, please look forward to a wonderfully angsty, megadark, hurtful, yet loving fanfic presented by none other than myself.

DISCLAIMER: Strange, that I put this, since everyone knows I don't own BLEACH, but actually, I put this up to notify everyone that the main story idea was created by the lovely ariaofthewind. She came up with this bizarre, yet luscious idea, so please do not praise me for it. I'm only responsible for twisting it further and making everyone cry for Ichigo. ...Oops, was that a spoiler? (Haha.)

Anyway, please ENJOY!

**Heart Emphatic**

by Duchess of Darkness

_Chapter I_

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**C**ocoa-brown irises looked up, staring pensively at the fabricated night sky of Hueco Mundo. A hand reached up to brush chestnut-brown hair back, long fingers weaving through the locks. Sousuke Aizen couldn't help but feel dissatisfied by the progress of his plans. He believed them to be too slow, with far too much backtracking involved. At first, it seemed amusing that the Shinigami would dare fight him, going so far as to take up residence in the human world. However, they were now proving to be a detriment to his plans. Were it not for them, he would be much farther along, alas he was forced to contemplate the effects of their constant interference.

Alone, Rukia Kuchiki, Renji Abarai, Rangiku Matsumoto, and Toushiro Hitsugaya would not prove to be a major problem. In the preceding years he was a Shinigami amongst them, he learned much about their tricks and abilities. In fact, he did not simply note theirs but the rest of the Gotei 13 as well. That was, after all, how he came to create his precious Espada: by learning about the Shinigami, he was able to create Arrancar powerful enough and with abilities capable of countering their attacks. It took quite some time before he was able to create the powerful ten ranks his Espada served on. However, despite their incredible strength and adaptability, they were still being crushed. His lower-ranked, yet considerably powerful, Arrancar were getting squashed like bugs before his very eyes. It was all because of a minor miscalculation.

One figure he did not add into the equation was one scrawny, meddlesome human, a _child_ in fact. Ichigo Kurosaki. Like any insufferable brat, Ichigo played the thorn in his side, crushing his Arrancar with that incredible strength of his. Ichigo was far stronger than he was given credit for. Aizen supposed this had to do with those mysterious Hollow abilities he had. Unlike the rest of the Shinigami, and far more different than the Gotei 13 and their abilities, Ichigo was blessed not only with his father's -- Isshin Kurosaki, if he remembered correctly -- Shinigami's powers, pride, and sense of justice, but he was also granted a Hollow's viciousness, brutality, and selfish hunger for personal victory. For being half human, he had incredible dexterity and superior brute strength; where he lacked in brains he made up for in cleverness or else sheer dumb luck. Ordinarily, Ichigo should not have stood out anymore than the others. However, there was a specialness that Ichigo alone had that intrigued him, as well as annoy him. Because of that rarity in Ichigo, the Arrancar were turning up like squished bugs, used and _useless_ to him and the rest of Hueco Mundo.

It was pathetic. Should he care to actually pull the muscles in his face, Aizen would've twisted his features ugly, and imitate the act of retching. That was how disturbed he was by the most recent passing of events. Yet he would not surrender to that brat's meager victories. The child may have been chipping down his warriors, but that did not mean he was winning the war. Far from it. Aizen would not allow the little half-breed to think he had the upper hand just because of this setback.

Since the emergence of Ichigo Kurosaki, a rogue knight in this chess game, neither White nor Black, Aizen began contemplating the different ways he could counter the young "Shinigami substitute's" advances on his board. Analyzing him, calculating his strength, his weaknesses, compiling a portfolio complete with his personal profile, Aizen searched for many ways he could crush the little knight. It would do well if he had a warrior strong enough to counter Ichigo's talents and pride. Not just any Arrancar could do, however. While he took pride in the few who could make Ichigo struggle, he was either unwilling to let his Arrancar face off with Ichigo, or else had better uses for them.

A specific Arrancar was necessary for fighting Ichigo. But who could challenge and at the very least stalemate with Ichigo? What Arrancar could beat a Vaizard?

It was a very good question, one that Aizen pondered a number of times when he concerned himself with Ichigo. A Vaizard was much like an Arrancar, in the sense both were created through illegal means and with the help of the opposing side. They were equal in every way, like two sides of the same coin. It should have been impossible for one to conquer the other. However, despite this theory, Aizen noticed that Ichigo, a Vaizard, was smashing through his Arrancar, going so far as to disrupt his Espada ranks. This proved Ichigo -- and the Vaizard -- the better warrior, and that was a sore wound to Aizen's pride.

If only Ichigo was easy enough to manipulate into changing sides. Alas, the boy's stubborn sense of justice and family made it difficult to doubt which side he'd fight on. Were it not for the boy's powers, a simple game of kidnapping and bribing would work in taking care of that problem.

But why even bother going that route? Aizen had better patience in devising a weapon strong enough to defeat Ichigo and his Vaizard groupies, as well as any other Hercules hero-wannabe. It would, after all, grant him a longer, more satisfying result than just killing off Ichigo or brainwashing him. And just like the genius ex-Shinigami captain and president of the Shinigami Research Institute Kisuke Urahara, exiled though he was, Aizen would turn to science to come up with a solution.

He took pride in the discoveries and developments he made in the past. For being deprived of the fantastic tools and facilities given to the 12th Division, he progressed fairly well on his own in creating the Arrancar and his Espada. Especially now, when there was still so much to do and use, he relied on his own Arrancar-run Research Institute to provide him an answer.

Speaking of, Szayel Aporro Grantz, his eighth Espada as well as the president of the Research Institute, was scheduled to meet with him. Szayel, he knew, would welcome his plans full heartedly. As a man who also loved science, they surely could not disagree. Besides, it was Aizen who furnished the Institute and allowed Szayel custody over it, through the Arrancar was still too fresh to understand obedience and the true meaning of science; Szayel was hardly in any position to deny him.

"My Lord... you called?"

Aizen pulled out of his thoughts as he heard the distinct, sarcastic voice of the very Espada he was thinking of drift his way. He did not hear the equally distinctive sound of cloth rustling against itself, signaling Szayel didn't bother to bow. Aizen found this amusing somewhat, though this meant that Szayel would only have it harder on himself later.

"How goes your work, Szayel?" Aizen asked, leaning back in his chair. He did not bother to face Szayel as he spoke.

"It goes well, Lord Aizen," Szayel replied. He didn't expect the immediate question, but he refused to be undeterred by it. "Progress is slow, but with patience the result will be gratifying."

"Progress has been 'slow' for quite some time," Aizen commented lightly, lacing his fingers in his lap. Quite often, he and Szayel played word games, where Szayel tried to hide the truth from him, and always failed.

Szayel hesitated slightly. "Yes, Lord Aizen. It seems we are experiencing some difficulties in the development stage. It hasn't been smooth."

Aizen shook his head. "So I see. Well, Szayel, since you are having such difficulty, and I am sure you are tired and frustrated, I suggest a small respite." In other words, he was well aware of how little progress was being made. Szayel's petty project had come to dead end after dead end. There was nothing he could do but give up now. "I have a project for you."

Szayel bit his tongue to keep from snapping back. "I am very grateful," he grated out instead.

"A simple job," I assure you: I want you to do some research on the Vaizard. Most especially, I want you to pay close attention to Ichigo Kurosaki." At this he turned, spinning his chair slowly to face the Espada.

Szayel hid a flinch and turned his gaze to the floor. Just as much as he didn't like the fact Aizen belittled his experiments, he didn't like the mention of that rotten Shinigami, Ichigo Kurosaki. Because of him, everything was put on backlog. Ichigo got priority attention from Aizen over his science!

"I will do my best, Lord Aizen," Szayel responded promptly, albeit stiffly. He made a short bow before turning to leave the room.

Before he stepped out, however, Aizen left him one last note: "On your project, Szayel, perhaps it is not the development process that is a problem but something else entirely. If you lack anything in particular, do tell me and I will happily make amends."

Szayel kept walking out of the door, gritting his teeth as he proceeded down the hall back to his laboratories. He didn't enjoy being made fun of. Subtle though it was, Aizen had stabbed at his knowledge and skills, murdering them and calling them nothing. Just because his project was going through setbacks.

Hissing through his teeth only when he was far enough down the hall, Szayel cursed Ichigo Kurosaki and his unwitting skills to hold Aizen's attention. If only the boy didn't exist. And if only he could get his hands on the boy and crush him. He knew better, though; Aizen may have told him to do research on the Shinigami, but in no way was he allowed to manhandle Ichigo. He could see it, Aizen valued Ichigo too much. A trump card in the wrong deck.

"Welcome back Szayel Aporro, sir," one of the Arrancar under his wing greeted him, bowing slightly. Szayel paid the Arrancar no mind, sweeping past to ender his private study in silence. The door opened and closed behind just as silently, operating automatically due to the neural central system he wired into the whole room. None but he could enter the room, and none but he could command that artificial intelligence. It was one of the few projects he succeeded in, and one that was reclusive to only him. Also, it was different from the complex labyrinth that was Las Noches, a mammoth designed and created not only by him, but by the other Arrancar who pursued the miraculous world of science, and Gin Ichimaru, a surprising genius behind that nonchalant, Cheshire mask of his. The secrets of his laboratories and private study were kept hidden even from Las Noches' surveillance system, known by none but he... and Aizen.

Nothing seemed to slip past Lord Aizen, probably not even a Hollow fly buzzing across the Meeting Hall. Lord Aizen was the type of man to be unfazed by anything in particular, a man of frightening genius and equally frightening ideas. This newest plan, whatever it was he concocted, was bound to prove bizarre. But Szayel, while knowing his lord was extravagant, did not know the reason for his researching the Vaizard and Ichigo Kurosaki. At the same time Szayel was annoyed by the boy, he was anxious about Aizen's plans for him.

Sure, research? That did not even begin to explain the lord's plans. Szayel was curious, irritatingly so, just as many lover of science would be. Somewhere inside him kindled the fire of curiosity and a mad addiction toward unusual projects. If he could see the final result of Lord Aizen's assured mad experiments, he would willingly offer his services, despite what ridicule may be thrown his way.

So momentarily putting aside his inner feud with the master he held a grudge against, who so gleefully pegged him down as incompetent, Szayel took on the task of researching the Vaizard group and their newest recruit: Ichigo. With the same relish he had for his perverted body modification experiments, he gave Kurosaki his full attention. Worse than a stalker, he watched and noted every daily habit the human participated in.

From hygienic rituals in the morning, to interaction with his family, to his activities done at that disgusting pigpen otherwise known as "high school" -- all of which were noted dutifully by the half hour, in great detail, down to the occasional flutter of the boy's eyelashes when he became bored with the lecture -- to his return home to commence in the afternoon studying of his subjects, to the continued interaction with his family, to further studying and occasional chitchat with that ugly Shinigami female who lived in his closet (so grotesque and unrefined), to the eventual retirement in his bed, and the inevitable repeat of events the next day, Szayel soon had Ichigo Kurosaki's life jotted down in his notes, gathered together in a file. But despite the countless hours and days he spent nitpicking at the human's life and gaining substantial amount of information concerning his daily routines and behavior, the Espada felt he was still missing something. Something vital.

But instead of fretting too much, Szayel opted to continue his research on the other subjects he was given to study. The Vaizard groupies tended to stay close to Kurosaki, going so far as to send one of their ranks to look after the boy at school. Certainly, they knew of his strength and capabilities, too, and planned on taking advantage of it. The Vaizard were strong enough, indeed, on their own, but that didn't mean they couldn't still expand their ranks.

Szayel studied the habits of the Vaizard as best he could without being detected. It was a challenge, in truth, and decisively more boring (annoying) than following Kurosaki around. He needed to know more than their little potty habits and perverse rituals with store bought porn -- information that didn't make him feel ill and green in the face. In fact, it would probably prove beneficial if he could sneak in and find out just what little patty cake games the Vaizard played with their star pupil. Did any of it really enhance that Shinigami's powers? Or were they just wasting his time, stuffing him full of air? A closer observation would be most useful to him, yet it was a task too dangerous on his own.

But that didn't mean he could go get someone else to do the job for him. Who to go, though? Szayel contemplated the candidate he would use in his stead, when a knock came to his door, interrupting his train of thought. With a suppressed groan of irritation, he opened the door, looking down his nose at the Arrancar who stood there. It was one of his assistants.

"Szayel Aporro, sir," the young male addressed him, head bowed and voice trembling.

"What is it?"

"I do not mean to interrupt you, but Lord Aizen has called for your presence. He wants to check your progress on the research project."

Szayel let out a short sigh before he replied, "Fine," and closed the door in the Arrancar's face. This would be his first report to Lord Aizen, and already he knew hardly any valuable information had been gathered. Once again, Lord Aizen would have his chance to slap him in the face. How irritating.

The Espada wasted no time preparing, gathering his notes to present to his master. As much as he hardly enjoyed his private visits with the ex-Shinigami Captain, delaying would hardly grant him any favors. So wearing a grim expression, Szayel quickly exited his laboratories and made his way to Aizen.

Halfway there, an unexpected and highly unpleasant surprise stood in his path, blocking the way: Grimmjow Jaegerjaque, sixth Espada, and a pain in the ass. As always, Grimmjow was sporting a smug, contemptuous look on his face. Szayel didn't bother to hide the vexation in his own expression. Neither of them liked the other, a constant undercurrent of hate flowing between them since Grimmjow was granted return to his rank as Sexta Espada.

"Do you have business with me?" Szayel spoke first. "I am very busty. I don't have time for _you_."

Grimmjow snorted and grinned. "I don't have business with you. Never have, never will."

"Good. Then move out of the way."

"Why? In a hurry?"

Szayel pushed the bone framed glasses up his nose in a snobbish gesture. "Yes. Lord Aizen called me. Unlike you, he favors my work and doesn't find me to be a nuisance. A _waste_."

Undeterred by this insult, so full of air, Grimmjow returned with, "If I'm such a waste, Aizen would've have let me in in the first place. That bastard Luppi getting ahead of himself meant nothing."

"You're just brawns, no brains, Jaegerjaque. A pack mule, nothing more. I, on the other hand, am much more -- more useful to Lord Aizen then you could ever be. _I_ will help him reach his goals with _my_ intelligence -- not you and the lack of yours." With a cocky smirk, Szayel help up the research he had worked on, waving it in Grimmjow's face like a trophy. It was his evidence to his usefulness to Lord Aizen, proof he was just another dumb pawn.

Grimmjow snarled at the offensive papers in his face and made a swipe at them. Szayel jerked them back out of his reach, but not without Grimmjow snatching a third of it from his hands. Smirking at Szayel's misfortune, Grimmjow incinerated the research with a low powered Cero concentrated in his palm.

Szayel let out an indignant cry, shocked and enraged at what had just happened. How dare he? How DARE he! Szayel may not have initially liked the job Aizen gave him after he ridiculed his work, but after having worked so hard on it already... Grimmjow would pay for his actions dearly. No one got away with destroying his work, especially no half-baked Espada like Grimmjow. He stepped forward threateningly, reaching for the Zanpakuto at his hip. Similarly, Grimmjow reached for his Zanpakuto as well, ready to draw and start this battle.

But before either of them could make a move, a small noise interrupted, coming from behind Grimmjow in the form of a light chuckle.

"Well, well, what's this? Yer not tryin' ta start a fight in da middle of da hall, are ya?"

Reluctantly, Szayel removed his hand from the hilt of his sword. "Of course not, Ichimaru, sir," he replied. The ex-Captain stood next to Grimmjow and laid a hand on his shoulder. In response, Grimmjow slowly relaxed from his fighting stance.

"Oh yeah?" Gin Ichimaru said, smiling lightly. "Dat sounds like a good thing 'cause I don't think Aizen would like it if ya delayed any further, Szayel."

Szayel colored slightly at the underlying threat promised. "Yes, I apologize." He glanced back at Grimmjow. "I'm sure you'll forgive me, Jaegerjaque, if I postpone our training session for later."

Grimmjow smirked. "Ah. You're still too green to fight against me. Go train yourself before you try to take me on again."

At this Szayel's face twisted into an ugly expression, full of hate and a promise for revenge. It was true, in terms of strength, he was the weakest of all the Espada, but Grimmjow wouldn't get away with pointing it out.

Before Szayel could return fire, however, Gin intervened yet again. "Time's a'tickin'! Off ya go," he told Szayel, reminding him of his appointment. Szayel nodded and left first, making sure to bump into Grimmjow as he passed. Were it not for Gin still holding onto his other shoulder, Grimmjow would've retaliated. "Now, now," Gin admonished in his usual playful tones.

The man had a disarming smile, his lips always curled into a soft grin while his eyes tilted up, closed yet accenting his carefree nature. At a glance, he was harmless, just another fellow in weird getup, but once you got to know him, as Grimmjow and the other did, it became well known that Gin Ichimaru was no man to trifle with, a character almost as frightening as Sousuke Aizen: the master of them all.

Grimmjow turned his attention toward Gin. With a shrug, he rolled out of the grip and turned to face the superior in contempt and reluctant obedience. "What?"

Gin smiled back at Grimmjow. "Now, now," he repeated. "I'ma hafta stall that spar ya have with Szayel. I got a job for ya."

Grimmjow cocked a brow. "A job," he repeated.

"Aye," Gin nodded. "Lord Aizen wants ya and some others ta go take a walk. In da human world, a'course."

Grimmjow's expression changed, a grin forming on his lips. The thought of going to Karakura for a chance to vent his anger lightened his mood. "And the Shinigami?"

Gin grinned in return. "Ya ain't grounded, Grimmjow. There's no reason ta keep ta from playin' with yer friends."

Friends or no, in reality, Grimmjow enjoyed the answer he heard. With a laugh he left Gin's side, knowing immediately where he was going.

Similarly, Gin knew exactly where he was going as well. After watching Grimmjow leave for Earth, he made his way back to where Aizen was, probably still talking with Szayel Aporro. No doubt, Szayel would be angry for what Grimmjow did to his research, yet Gin wondered if the Espada was calm enough to keep his tongue in check.

It was no surprise to Gin how differently the Espada behaved from loyal, obedient subjects. They each had their own violent streak, a stroke of pride in them that forbade they prostrate themselves completely before Aizen. After all, the Arrancar as a whole were more war pawns than faithful subjects. Chivalry didn't hold that far for creatures such as them.

Nearing the open doors, Gin heard the banter tossed back and forth between master and pet. A small grin formed on his lips as he listened, already knowing how it would end.

"--jow had the audacity to destroy my work!"

"I supposed you want compensation for that?"

"Yes!"

Gin's grin widened at such balls. It surprised him, yet at the same time pleased him. T'would be shameful otherwise if an Espada had no backbone.

"Yet from what I see, what Grimmjow did was actually a favor. Your research was useless to me."

Sneaking a peak in the door, Gin caught the profile of Szayel's black look, barely contained in his strain to stay civil. It looked like he wanted to say something but bit his tongue out of fear for his life.

It still seems like you're no satisfied."

Gin chose the moment to step into the room and interrupt. "Oh? Trouble in Wonderland?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

Aizen looked at him over Szayel's shoulder and offered a cordial smile. "Gin, perhaps you can remedy this? It seems I do not have the power to do so."

Szayel flinched visibly.

Gin tilted his head slightly and hummed in thought. "Well, I don't know about day research yer talkin' about, but I _do_ know Grimmjow's on his way ta da human world right now."

Aizen nodded in approval. To Szayel, he spoke, "This is a good opportunity to recover what information you lost and thicken your file with more useful facts. Perhaps you can find out a possible weakness amongst the Vaizard?"

Szayel muttered a "Yes..." in reply, complying to Aizen's demands and taking the verbal slap at his face, and left without much of a fight. As he passed Gin he struggled to kept his control, dashing out of the room as quickly as possible. Gin found this amusing and chuckled as he walked further into the room toward Aizen.

"Is dis really wise?" he asked his superior lightly, meaning no harm in his question.

"What do you mean, Gin?"

"Letting Grimmjow go fer messing up yer little project," he clarified.

"Ah." A smile curled Aizen's lips as he leaned back comfortably in his chair. "Well, you must remember, Gin, that all actions come with consequence, no matter how selfless or moral. He will not forget to remind Grimmjow this when he returns from his assignment."

"What about da research? I know yer actually tryin' ta get some real results outta it."

Aizen shrugged a shoulder nonchalantly. Honestly, he was heartily disappointed by the actions of his Espada. Most especially was he disappointed by the trash Szayel tried to present him. However, trusting Szayel would take this opportunity to properly do his job, such a setback shouldn't be too consequential.

"If I may ask..."

Aizen raised a brow, encouraging Gin to continue.

"How are ya gonna utilize da research? Ya gonna have Szayel make yer trump card himself?"

Before Aizen could answer, a soft knock came from behind Gin, interrupting their conversation. Glancing over his shoulder, Gin spotted an Arrancar, one of Szayel's assistants, kneeling in the doorway, quivering in their presence. "Aa-- I-- I don't mean to interrupt, Lord Aizen, Ichimaru, sir, b-but i have a request from Eighth Espada: Szayel Aporro Grantz. My Lord, he would like to join Sixth Espada, Grimmjow Jaegerjaque, on his mission and personally confront the enemy."

Gin glanced at Aizen, tilting his head in amusement. He didn't expect the sx-Shinigami Captain to agree, and judging by his expression -- he was right. Aizen smiled slightly, a make of courtesy and genial concern, and leaned lightly on his fist. "Szayel doesn't need to join Grimmjow in his task, valiant as his offer is. Tell him he can work just as well on his own assignment far from the battlefield. He does not have permission to even show his face to the Shinigami."

The nervous Arrancar nodded. "Y-Yes, Lord Aizen," he replied before standing up, bowing to his master. "I-If you'll excuse me--" Without another word he dashed out of the room, escaping just like any other Arrancar did, fleeing from mortal danger like frightened animals.

Gin chuckled at hte scene and game closer to Aizen's chair, shifting his stance to favor on leg. "Quite da excitement!" he commented cheerfully. "All dis action just ta satisfy ya and help da progress of ye project. I wonder what they'll act like once they figure out what yer doin'."

Aizen looked up at his old Vice Captain, the one man with whom he enjoyed the presence of. Always sharp, though loose in nature, and such a pleasure to talk and listen to, Gin was one subordinate Aizen didn't mind sharing his ideas. However this time, he would have to keep silent his secrets. So smiling, he replied, "Indeed, the enthusiasm is startlingly high. No one needs to go so far to please me, though I do enjoy the special attention. I only hope the same enthusiasm greets me when the real fun begins."

To anyone else, this nonchalant manner and subtle demand for immediate and unquestionable servitude would have been frightening. But Gin was well informed with Aizen's games, his hobby of orchestrating the happenings on the stage of life with a simple wave of his hands a few suggestions. He knew Aizen's antics.

"What about my earlier question?"

Aizen smiled at Gin, peering up at him. "About Szayel? No need to worry, Gin, Szayel knows better than to do anything without my consent. The task I gave him was very specific; he has better sense than to take on a role that wasn't assigned to him."

"And me, Captain?" Gin smiled as he used Aizen's old title.

"Everyone has a role in the play, never worry."

Gin chuckled at this answer. "Aye. Well, I'll be leavin' ya ta catch up on what work ya have left ta take care of. I got my own things, too."

Aizen nodded. "Of course."

Gin left Aizen's side, strolling with ease out of the room and back into the maze of halls that swarmed through Las Noches like the veins on a human body. Endless white surrounded him, bringing sharp contrast to the black that lined and outlined his outfit. As a habit of his, he pushed his arms back into his sleeves, hiding his hands. Somewhere along the way, he whistled merrily, springing a catchy tune he once knew the name of long, long time ago. It carried with him till he reached one of the many hidden doors and opened it, a mechanical hum buzzing in his ears as the panel slid open and closed behind him.

Beyond the door was a stark contrast to the white halls. Dark, painted in black, was a room sparsely furnished, naught but a straight of electronics occupied the room. A single chair, cushioned and comfy enough for long periods of sitting, was pushed in under the table. Gin went to the chair and sat in it, smiling slightly at the quiet squeak as the springs pushed against his familiar weight. This was a room that not necessarily only he knew about, but had things in it only he could touch. It was, in a sense, his little game room, where he played little tricks to suit his fancy, and tested out new mechanisms to better confuse the inhabitants of Las Noches. To clarify, this room was the heart of Las Noches, containing every security lock, every alarm, every monitory, et cetera, that the building could hold. It contained devices like -- and this one of Gin's favorites -- a touchable map of Las Noches, with the ability to switch, move, destroy, and raise up walls and other features in the building in an instant, all with a simple tap of his finger. He could monitor every movement, watch every Arrancar and Espada out in the open or even in the privacy of their personal rooms. Though Gin didn't often use the system for the latter option, it did come in handy when suspicions arose in the ranks.

Truly, Gin loved this room, more so than Aizen's chambers, from which he just came, where he could bask in the man's existence and enjoy a lighthearted conversation with him. And as much as Aizen had access to the very same features in his own personal space, something Gin could take advantage of any time at all, Gin preferred to play on his own, just as he always had, and make mischief on his own.

Grinning lightly at his return to this room, Gin woke one of the numerous monitors, bringing to life a screen and image that he hadn't looked at in quite some time. This was, because, the monitor did not display any image of Las Noches, or Hueco Mundo for that matter, but Earth -- more specifically, Karakura, in its present day. Different from any other playful spying he did, Gin leaned back to enjoy the show of Aizen's precious Arrancar in action. Well, it looked like things were going to become fun once again.

----

Grimmjow inhaled deeply, sporting a grin on his face as he took in the sight before him. Karakura, bright and vibrant at midday, was bursting with life and activity. Though Grimmjow had no business or care for whatever it was humans did throughout the day, he was more than happy to know that whatever damage he did today would be dealt at least twofold with the abundant number of 'innocent bystanders' in the way. On the verge of creating mayhem in the city, he let out a content sigh and turned to those he brought with him.

"Oi, oi! Aizen didn't say crap about us not being about to do what we want. I'm gonna take advantage of that." The other Arrancar howled in agreement, just as happy as he was. "But--" he interrupted them, "--if you get your asses kicked by those pussy Shinigami, I ain't dragging you back. You're on your own."

One of the Arrancar snorted and gestured rudely to Grimmjow. "Speak of yourself, 'Sexta Espada'." Without waiting for a retaliation, the Arrancar shot off, more than willing to carry out their mission for Lord Aizen.

Grimmjow returned the gesture at the retreating Arrancar's back before taking off himself, grinning madly. He wound up a Cero and effortlessly fired it down the street. An explosion erupted the pleasant atmosphere as civilians screamed in reaction, many scrambling away from the flying smoke and debris. At the nearby park, children shrieked and ran in groups, moving like a mass of targets for Grimmjow to just incinerate right then and there. Powering up another Cero, he made a pistol shape with his hand, pretending he was about to fire a gun, and aimed at the children.

"Like a lone duck in the air..." he smirked to himself and fired, adding his own sound effects as a bright blue beam headed straight for the target.

However, before the beam could hit human flesh and burn it instantly, something else collided with it, stopping and deflecting the blow.

"GRIMMJOW!"

Grimmjow blinked, and smirked, when he saw just what -- or rather, _who_ -- intercepted his attack. A laugh erupted from inside him. "Yo, Shinigami!"

Ichigo Kurosaki, said Shinigami, glared at Grimmjow, swiping the air with his Zanpakuto before throwing his body into a fighting stance. Such a look, though it was meant to be threatening, only made Grimmjow laugh harder, spurred on by the little redhead's spunk. The kid didn't have a chance -- never did, never will -- against him, or any other Espada out there. He was number _six_, baby! He wasn't some push over! But the Shinigami gave him a good throw; exercise, if he cared to call it that.

"What, ready for another round of beating?"

"You wish!" Ichigo shot back. "I'll defeat you this time."

Grimmjow's lips pulled back in another grin. "You say that but _you'll_ be the one going down today. Prepare your will, Shinigami, you're about to be put in a body bag!" Without prompt, Grimmjow launched forward, meeting Ichigo halfway in an airborne clash that shook the very air around them.


	2. Chapter 2

Note: To clarify, this is a Grimmjow x Ichigo fanfic. I understand that at the moment it doesn't feel that way, but trust me, those two are the main couple, whether they like it or not.

One more thing: I've recently discovered I have CTS. It's my only valid excuse for this chapter being so late. Not to mention I've been working all summer. No rest or spare time for me.

Thank you for the lovely reviews, everyone. Preggo Ichi plushies given to all who did.

**Heart Emphatic**

_Chapter II_

--

The hits were hard and heavy; Ichigo spat out a glob of blood that had blossomed from a wound in his mouth, turning angry chestnut colored eyes to the bane of his relatively peaceful day. Grimmjow looked back at him with an amused glint to his eye, a cocky curl to his lips. It was obvious he was enjoying their fight more than Ichigo was. There was no mistaking the confident jut to his hips as he remained afloat in the air and looked down at Ichigo.

From his position on the rooftop, one hand tightly grasping the edge of the ridge board, the other fisting around the handle of his Zanpakutou, Ichigo glared at the man who was so cock-sure he'd win this fight. It was aggravating how their recent battles have ended. Never really finishing, Grimmjow always escaped with the upper hand, smirking down at Ichigo as though he were some pathetic pup who tried to bite his ankle.

Ichigo's pride was hurt, and it fueled the angry determination to defeat the Arrancar. Were it not for the fact he was handicapped with pre-established fatigue from his training with the Vaizards, Ichigo was certain his anger would've been enough to push him toward victory.

Alas, luck was not on his side, as the darkening bruise on his side was telling him silently with its throbbing, so he would have to make do. It pissed him off that he was once again disadvantaged in this tango of theirs, but there was naught he could about it now. He could only endure. And endure he would.

He'd make it last. He'd jump as far as need be. He'd win.

"Y'know, Shinigami, I think I like you down there. _On your knees_."

Ichigo bristled at the casual mockery, barking back, "You won't see it ever again! Not if I defeat you!"

Grimmjow's smirk widened. "We'll see about that."

Gaze darkening at the casual comment, Ichigo pushed up to his feet, gaining his footing on the angled rooftop. Without warning he launched into the air, aiming straight for Grimmjow. He was met with resistance, the Arrancar once again countering his attacks with his own, hardly touching his own sword to assault him.

For whatever reason, Grimmjow seemed to prefer more hand-to-hand fighting. He grinned like a predator that loved to sink its own claws into its victim before devouring it. For Ichigo, it was frustrating and irritating to feel like some pathetic meal to this guy, to struggle against his attacks as a child would a deadly, full-grown wolf, starving for meat.

This inferior complex that burst open by Grimmjow's provocations gave him enough will to heighten his speed, slicing clean through the Arrancar's defenses and cutting him open. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to make a fatal cut, as Grimmjow dodged just in time to only damage his side.

With a grin and an amused chuckle, Grimmjow grabbed Ichigo by his wrist and jerked the sword away from his body, swinging the boy out, tossing him high into the air. Following the momentum, he brought his other hand up to point after Ichigo. "_Bala_."

Like firing from a sniper rifle, Grimmjow fired the bullet, piercing Ichigo's flesh in an instant, never giving him time to defend himself. The shot went clean through Ichigo's chest, racing up in a diagonal angle, piercing several organs at once.

Ichigo gasped only to cough and start hacking, fighting for balance as well as consciousness as pain seared through is body. He squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth and shaking off the sudden blindness of his eyes.

"Damnit!" he cursed under his breath, regaining his footing. He hissed at the awful feeling in his chest and forced his eyes open.

"Are we done playing, Shinigami, or do I need to hit you a few more times?" Grimmjow taunted with a laugh. "Show it to me!"

Ichigo snarled, coughing up another spot of blood and spitting it out. He probably punctured a lung. "Fine! You want it, you got it, Grimmjow," he growled.

"That's more like it."

Ichigo ignored the pain and settled back into a proper stance, bringing his hand up to his face. Feeling the familiar dark power like a black cord at the corner of his conscience, he yanked on it, dragging his hand down across his face. In the shadow of a black burst of power, a porcelain white mask formed, hideous and threatening in appearance, shadowed, fire colored eyes menacingly glaring out through twin eye slots.

In an instant the air around them changed, dark with menace. Grimmjow grinned at the heavy feeling that settled on his shoulders, pleased with the evil intent that radiated from Ichigo's new form. It was like an energy rush for him to see the Shinigami so dark. In this form he was teetering precariously on the edge of good and evil, and all that was needed was a simple push from a helpful friend to cast that boy into dark oblivion.

Hell suited this form well. And the heightened power was a sin. A god-sent sin. "That's more like it!" Grimmjow crowed, sliding back into a fighting stance.

"You asked for it." The voice behind the mask was warped, ugly. It hardly sounded like Ichigo at all.

Grimmjow chuckled. "_Come_."

Ichigo shot forward without further prompt, slamming into Grimmjow with incredible force. Grimmjow laughed despite the fact he was being pushed back, forcing more strength into his attacks and he defended himself, countering whenever an open was available, shoving Ichigo back with a delighted ferocity only a bloodthirsty animal could possess.

Ichigo parried and caught jerked forward, catching Grimmjow by the collar of his _gi_.

"How long can you hold it this time, Shinigami?" the Espada asked, still grinning despite his situation.

"Long enough," Ichigo growled through that warped voice before slamming his fist into the side of Grimmjow's face, sending the man reeling back flying a good number of feet.

--

Gin neared the door, pausing just outside it to peer in between the cracks and listen to the going-ons inside. The distinctive voices of the Arrancar under Lord Aizen's rule, and the various Shinigami who fought against them, clashed together as the noise bounced around the spacious room, echoing off walls. Gin slid into the room quietly, spying the various screens spread out before Aizen, each one safely observing the battles taken place on earth.

"It entertains me to watch them."

Gin turned his gaze away from the screens to stare instead at the back of Aizen's chair. "Hmm?" he hummed lightly in inquiry, sliding further into the room.

"Their determination is fathomless."

"Ah. Is dat so?" He came close to Aizen's chair, standing beside it. He glanced casually at the other man's expression before turning back to peer at the various monitors of the faraway action. "--Oh? Look at dat! Dat Kurosaki kid is still alive."

"Grimmjow seems to favor him."

Gin grinned lightly. He reached forward and passed his hand over the length of the arm of the chair, switching all the images to center on the of Ichigo's and Grimmjow's fight. "I didn't think dat Grimmjow would play favorites." He tilted his head to the side. "I don't blame 'im though."

"Nor would I." Aizen's gaze slowly slid over to catch his, a small smile curling his lips. It wasn't so much a mirthful smile as it was a mischievous and secretive one. "The boy is an asset to the Shinigami."

"And a detriment to ours, aye?"

"...Not necessarily." Aizen returned his gaze to the fight, watching as Grimmjow overpowered Ichigo, cracking his mask with a direct hit from his Cero. "He could prove useful."

Gin silently inquired the meaning behind that sentence. He did enjoy hearing the other man's thoughts, getting hints to his plans.

"Even as a White Pawn, he carries the strength of a Knight. But with Hollow attributes, is he really so pure?"

He chuckled. "Kurosaki ain't easy ta taint, though."

"No, his connection to his friends and family make him too stubborn to be easily persuaded. His will is steel."

"But dere are ways around dat, ain't dere?" Gin grinned.

"Always."

At this, Gin's grin widened, another chuckle escaping him. In the background was the sharp yell of pain as Ichigo was once more blasted by Grimmjow, his mask breaking into millions of pieces.

"'S long as Grimmjow don't kill him before he can be used."

"He knows better," Aizen replied. "He is more obedient than he appears. He needs only a small reminder, that's all."

Gin watched the screens, still grinning. "Y'know, d'ose two are a lot alike. Grimmjow and Kurosaki."

Aizen chuckled softly. "Very much so. That is probably what makes them so violent toward each other."

"Like two dogs chompin' on each other's neck."

"Yes... which is why it is so entertaining to watch them. We must be careful, however, because the game won't last long if either hound is put out of commission too early."

"Someone's gotta die eventually," Gin reminded. Another cry bounced off the walls as the screens displayed Ichigo crashing into a wall, smashing a hole through the brick. Blood soaked into his clothes, trailing down his bruised skin and spilling over the rubble. Just some dozen feet away from the damage stood Grimmjow, casually standing in the middle of the road. His harsh laugh echoed in the room. "By da looks o' it, Kurosaki might go first."

"It would be a shame to lose him. He is still a valuable player despite being White."

"Too bad he ain't got a twin."

Aizen smiled, leaning to the side in his chair casually, resting his chin on the curve of his hand. "...Indeed."

--

"Get up, Shinigami! I know you're not dead yet."

As if on command, the rubble moved, Ichigo shifting atop the haphazard pile. He groaned, gritting his teeth as he forced himself up to his feet. He panted, wincing against the pain that rocketed through his chest, encompassing most of his body.

"You wish," he spat, literally hawking blood and spit onto the floor. He glanced in disgruntlement at the mess he was in. He hated how horrible a shape his body currently was, adrenaline the main crutch that held him up.

"You have no idea."

Without warning, Grimmjow launched forward and snatched Ichigo by the front of his gi, throwing him out onto the street to tumble helplessly across the asphalt. Ichigo struggled to stop, skidding several feet. He grunted as he pushed up to his knees, bracing his free hand against his wound. He cursed inwardly at the sharp pain that electrified his very bones, sending him crashing back to the ground in a sweaty, bloody mess.

Grimmjow came up to him then, roughly kicking him to roll him over onto his back. Ichigo made to swipe at the Espada's legs with his sword, but Grimmjow stepped on his hand, stilling the attack. He grinned down at Ichigo, aiming a finger at his chest.

"Too bad, Shinigami. It was fun while it lasted."

He powered up a Cero, his blue eyes laughing at Ichigo's stricken, stubborn face. The boy was denying him the satisfaction of looking completely pathetic even in the eyes of death. Oh well. As if he really got off on stuff like that.

"See y--"

"Oi!" A hand immediately snatched Grimmjow's, pointing it away from Ichigo.

Grimmjow snarled at the sudden interruption, turning to glare at Gin as he stood next to him, the Gargantua gaping open behind him.

Gin clicked his tongue in admonishment. "Now, now, Grimmjow, we can't have ya killin' yer play mates, now can we?"

Grimmjow jerked his arm back to free his wrist, but Gin held it tightly. "--the hell are you doing, interrupting me!"

"But I came ta pick you and da kiddies up," Gin reasoned with childish seriousness. "Time ta head back home ta Papa."

Grimmjow snorted loudly at the nickname for their master. "Damn it." He jerked again, this time yanking his arm free. He looked back at Ichigo and gave him a snide look. "Looks like you're safe this time, Shinigami."

Ichigo didn't feel like he was lucky, though. He glared back despite his condition, watching with narrowed eyes as the two left through the hole, meeting the other Arrancar that were waiting there. The rip in reality slowly closed, giving Grimmjow just enough time to shove a rude gesture at him before he vanished from sight.

Ichigo coughed at the blood welling in his lungs, turning to the side to spit it out. He felt horrible, to put it simply. He ached, he was drained, he wanted to close his eyes and just surrender to the sweet oblivion that lingered at the corner of his conscience.

He didn't allow himself the satisfaction, however, as he waited out the pain, listening to his own haggard breathing. He hated how easily Grimmjow still beat him. Even with an increase to the time he could hold his mask, it still wasn't enough to match Grimmjow. And when he charged into the battle handicapped, it was stupid to think he could win. Still, he couldn't allow Grimmjow to roam free to harm innocents as he pleased. He couldn't let him destroy Karakura.

"Damn... it..."

"That's why you need to train harder."

Ichigo looked up at the voice, spotting Shinji Hirako, his Vaizard supervisor of sorts, walk toward him, smirking as he casually came up to him.

"You wanted to become stronger, that's why you came to us. Now you just have to pull through."

Ichigo glared, weakly turning to find a less painful position, maybe even sit up if he could. "I have been! But it's still not enough."

"Moron!" a female voice interjected, drawing Ichigo's attention to the Vaizard Hiyori Sarugaki, Shinji's partner in crime, come near, tossing him a disgusted look. "You haven't been trying hard enough. Stupid."

Ichigo opened his mouth to snap out a retort, but was cut short when Hiyori kicked him in the gut, sending him down into the ground again.

"Tomorrow, we're gonna try again. And you--" she jabbed a finger at one of his bruises, earning a glare from him, "--are going to get better. Or I'll kick your ass."

"Of course I'll get better!" Ichigo cut in, swatting her hand away from him.

"Good. Now go to sleep, damnit. Don't you know when to fall unconscious?" Helping him out, Hiyori hit him again, knocking the wind out of him, and maybe some blood.

Ichigo hissed, clutching his wound. He tried to cursed Hiyori for handling him roughly, but the corners of his vision were already turning dark, and his long awaited blackout was taking hold of him now. Surrendering instead of resisting as instinct told him to, Ichigo let the darkness claim him and passed out.

Hiyori made a face, snorting again. "Idiot."

"He's learning," Shinji said calmly, glancing at her. "He'll get there." He paused to call over his shoulder, "Hachi--! Ichi needs to be picked up!"

A large man, Hachigen Ushouda, came forward and gently scooped Ichigo up into his arms.

"You know what to do," Shinji patted him on the arm, grinning. When the other man nodded, Shinji turned and started back for the Warehouse they'd been occupying lately.

--

Grimmjow growled inwardly as he stood before Aizen with the other Arrancar he'd taken with him to Karakura. One more he didn't expect to join them was that priss, Szayel. Their eyes met and instantly a spark of hate flew between them. They would never get along.

"Play nice, kids," Gin teased, grinning at them from his spot next to Aizen's chair. "Don't make us ground ya."

Grimmjow scoffed, turning to Gin, silently daring him to do something.

"Calm yourself, Grimmjow," Aizen interrupted, speaking calmly and casually in light of the subtle order. "There are reasons you were called back."

"Yeah?" he replied shortly, his voice rough with lack of discipline.

Aizen took the rudeness in stride. "I'm sure you are sour because you were interrupted, however you will have another chance soon enough. In the meantime, relax. I have something else for you instead."

Grimmjow gave a disgruntled expression yet didn't dare voice his protest. He wasn't some princess that needed a break from work every two hours. He wanted to go back out there and finished what he started. But because Aizen ordered he back off, he had to comply. Reluctantly.

"As for you, Szayel..." Aizen turned his gaze to the pink-haired Espada. "I do remember there was something I'd asked of you."

Szayel contained his displeasure and stepped forward, bowing slightly. "I have successfully recorded the battles between the Arrancar and the Vaizard, my Lord. I need only to analyze the research I gathered further in my labs."

"I hope you will be prompt with the results. You gathered information from all the battles?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Even Grimmjow's?"

"...Yes, my Lord."

"I hope for that one first, Szayel."

The Eighth Espada nodded, accepting the orders with little argument. He didn't need to humiliate himself again, and in front of the other Arrancar. Especially not in front of Grimmjow.

Aizen glanced at the other Arrancar and smiled kindly at them. "You may go. Rest, you have fought well." To Grimmjow, he added, "Leave yourself available." To Szayel, he said, "Stay with me, Szayel. I would like to speak with you."

Szayel hesitated, but bowed in acceptance. "...Of course, my Lord."

The other Arrancar left the room, Grimmjow lingering only for a second to cast Szayel a snarky grin before disappearing out of the room, leaving Szayel bristling like a pissed cat.

As he left, he separated from the other Arrancar, splitting down the various halls. He was angry he had to stop short, being so close to ending the game, but he had to comply. He had to hold his tongue. If only he didn't have to, damnit.

Hitting the wall as he passed, Grimmjow's lips pulled into a snarl. Perhaps he was the pissed cat instead.

To make matters just a hair worse, along the way back to his room, Grimmjow passed none other than Ulquiorra Schiffer, Fourth Espada. With such an impassive face, and equally impassive attitude, it irritated Grimmjow to be near the guy. Ulquiorra acted strictly on orders, never going a hair farther than he needed to, completely loyal to Aizen.

He was a walking, breathing pawn to a black king.

Sneering as they slid past each other, Grimmjow's ire grew when Ulquiorra blatantly ignored him, calmly, silently walking by as though Grimmjow's antics were nothing to him.

Ulquiorra continued on to the room Aizen occupied, quietly entering without prompt. Aizen smiled once he saw him.

"Ah, Ulquiorra. I want you to go with Szayel a moment. He will give you something of his. Once you have it, return to me. I have an assignment for you."

Ulquiorra met Aizen's gaze calmly, silently loyalty spoken in his cold eyes, a sharp contrast to the prominent green "tear trails" marking his face.

"Yes, Lord Aizen."

--

Afterwords: I've tried to stay true to the English translations but it JUST. WON'T. WORK. Damn it all, it grates on my nerves to use the English. I'll just stick with the Romaji version of... oh, well, everything. Just thought you'd like to know.

Also: The mentions of "Black" and "White" are not racial comments. They're references to Chess.

Thank you for your patience. I know it was a little different this time, and maybe a little wonky due to the length of time I had to mess with it. I hope you enjoyed it anyway. Please look forward to the next chapter!


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